The Accursed. Joyce Carol Oates

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СКАЧАТЬ for walking, from our Bank Street cobbler. (For Willy claims to “walk, walk & walk” each day—along the canal, & the wild banks of Lake Carnegie; most shockingly, alone.) On her jacket lapel, a charming ladies’ pin-on watch, its sly little face upside down; at which, I saw, my dear cousin covertly glanced often as her elders prattled on, & on. Dear Willy, I cannot blame you!

      _____ . (Such rumors fly about Princeton, in the wake of the Wilson-West discord! The most exciting being, Andrew West is accused in some quarters of dabbling in the black arts. Horace has said that there is some truth to the charge, for there is known to be a cadre of research scientists at the university who venture into areas of experimentation involving the human brain through dissection (ugh!) & the like; kept secret from the university administration & the majority of the faculty, these scientists, under the guise of Natural Biology, pursue their illicit research in the bowels of Guyot Hall.)

      _____ . Horace refuses to even hint at what the UNSPEAKABLE is, in our midst—“Nothing to concern you, dear Adelaide.” Yet I know, it is something shocking & horrific; as bad as dissection. My lady-visitors know less than I do, it seems, & are so very disappointing, they make me want to spit. “Was it a robbery, a beating, a murder?”—so I persisted in inquiring of Horace, “—please tell me was it a murder?” (For I could not give utterance to the UNSPEAKABLE, that horrific insult that might be inflicted upon a woman or a girl, by a man; & the disgust & dismay of it ever afterward casting a shadow upon the poor victim’s life, of which she could no more speak than if her tongue had been cut out like poor Philomela.) But Horace says grimly it is nothing to concern his dear Puss.

      _____ . Horace’s nephew Dabney Bayard drops by for tea, with several Bayard relatives of such antiquity, I could have sworn they had passed away years ago; Lieutenant Bayard as he is now called, in his handsome officer’s uniform; all mustach’d smiles & Virginia charm & a curious persistence (did the young man believe that sharp-eyed Puss did not see?) in staring after young Hannah as she passed the tea things, for the girl is ever-more buxom, I am afraid, & otherwise shapely as a grown woman; with a mocha-taffy-colored skin, thick lips & nose; very quiet, deferential & obedient; not “bright”—one can see, in the sometimes lack of focus of her eyes. Yet in every way young & innocent, I am sure; for Minnie would see to this. And when Hannah was absent from the room, Lieutenant Dabney quickly became restless; chattered vaguely of the nuptials in June & the honeymoon trip—(Venice, Florence, Rome—ah, those fabled cities, poor Puss yearns to see!)—& the Craven house on Rosedale Road which will be deeded to the young couple—(though it is said to be haunted: has Lieutenant Bayard no fear of ghosts?)—casting me a blank embarrassed stare when I inquired, as if I had only just thought of it, what on earth had happened at the Craven house the other day?—of which no one will speak? After a startled silence Dabney drew breath and said, “Aunt Adelaide, I don’t think I know what you mean. I pay very little attention to gossip.”

      Why, this was a rebuke! Such rage coursed along my veins, I could wish that I had recourse to the Prince of Darkness & his quick ways of revenge; if only Andrew West were a close friend of Horace’s, & a confidant of poor Puss!

      As well as rebuke, something in Lieutenant Bayard’s gaze frightened me. For the Lieutenant, too, seemed frightened—for just a moment. & when he left escorting his doddering elders I felt very faint, & Henriette Slade, who had lingered behind in sympathy with me, ministered a dollop of snuff—Ladies’ Snuff, it is called—much milder than Gentlemen’s—& badly needed—out of her little crystal snuff bottle, carried concealed in her sleeve & wrapt in a lace handkerchief; a delicious fit of sneezes to clear the head, I might have wept with relief.

      _____ . Horace kisses my brow & says that I am feverish. He says that Dr. Boudinot must be obeyed—no undue excitement in Puss’s life! Warns me against the swirl of local gossip, which resembles a windstorm of dirt, sand, chaff, bits of manure—it is very dangerous to breathe! When I inquired after Lieutenant Bayard, that there has been said something to the effect that, at West Point, the young man was chastised for a violation of—is it the honor code, so-called?—yet not expelled, for his family influence—Horace at once pressed his forefinger to his lips frowning—No, Adelaide! This is nothing of which I have ever heard & it must go no farther.

      _____ . Later assuring me, I am well protected in this house; all of the inhabitants of Hodge Road & vicinity are well protected; it is not after all Camden, New Jersey!—which drew from me a quick response, Why do you speak of Camden?—& Horace seemed confused for just a moment, as if he had misspoke. As if to weary my curiosity then, he went on to speak at length of Mr. Harrison our investment attorney, & matters of Wall Street, & Mr. Depew, & Mr. Hill—& Mr. Roosevelt—(which livened me just a bit for the exploits of “Teddy” are always amusing in the papers). Yet, talk of the unions & strikes continues to weary—no more do I care for such sordid matters as Madame Blavatsky herself might have cared for them—recoiling from talk of rabble-rousers who have begun to plague society with demand for HIGHER WAGES & their crude threat of STRIKES. Horace grows livid, says they are but criminals; Pinkerton’s must be hired, if the U.S. Army will not help our cause; the anarchists must be kept down, that Justice be served. Such craven greed, to wish only HIGHER WAGES, as if there is not a HIGHER CONSCIOUSNESS to which we must all strive.

      Did the rabble & their leaders not ever learn—man must not live by bread alone?

      _____ . B O R E D O M through the week; & on Monday, an ambitious tea, & Puss was feeling strong & gay, & most of the ladies looking very well.

      Frances Cleveland came, a very pleasant surprise; at her dashing best, all plumes & jewels & high-colored complexion—(for it is whispered, the ex–First Lady has a touch of Indian blood, which throws Grover into a fit of fury if the gutter press pursue it); & Cousin Mandy in good spirits, despite her health; & the angelic Annabel Slade, our reigning Princeton debutante & bride-to-be; & her tedious mother Henrietta who is so damned good; & handsome Johanna van Dyck, tho’ dressed just a bit shabbily it seemed to me; & old Mrs. Washington Burr, Horace’s mother whom I did not recall having invited; & little Ellen Wilson in an unfortunate outfit, not at all flattering to her plain horsey features & stolid figure. (I am most angered, “Willy” sent regrets! Her excuse was so feeble, I did not even listen to it uttered by her silly aunt.)

      Poor Ellen Wilson, invited to Maidstone House out of a sense of obligation & courtesy; & because her husband is president of the university, & cannot be avoided. A naïve woman, allowing herself to be drawn out by us in the matter of Dean West & the Graduate College, stammering that the dean & his supporters would “be very regretful if Woodrow’s wrath is finally aroused, & his health threatened”—& we ladies sat startled into silence. Is the woman vulgar, or merely gauche?—is this how the company at Prospect common talks? Cousin Mandy discreetly changed the conversation by inquiring of Lenora Slade her recipe for the coconut meringues she had brought us, which were delicious. Thus, some embarrassment was curtailed, & Mrs. Wilson spared further folly.

      From thence, discussion of the upcoming wedding: Annabel’s gown which will be a “vision,” Mrs. Slade promises, in the new Directoire style, & her maid of honor & bridesmaids so very thrilled; & the many distinguished guests journeying to Crosswicks Manse, from various parts of the country including Washington, D.C.; & the honeymoon trip, to Venice, Florence & Rome; & Josiah’s plan to study German idealist philosophy at Heidelberg, or, it may be, to join a Polar expedition to the Klondike!— & all matter of chattering, pleasing at the time if forgettable a half-hour later. Ladies!—so I wanted to cry, rising from my chaise longue like a Valkyrie—ladies! Does not one of you know that an UNSPEAKABLE crime has been perpetrated here in Princeton, that it involves a female & is very serious & mysterious, & no notice has appeared in the local papers, & the men conspire to know nothing, that they might shield us from evil? But of course СКАЧАТЬ